


Trust is A Two-Way Street

by quicksilverdeancas (quicksilvermalec), writingisntapastime



Series: Discord RPs [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, DLDR, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Emotionally Repressed Sam Winchester, Fluff, Gabriel Loves Sam Winchester, Graphic description of panic attacks, Hurt Gabriel, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Pining Gabriel, Pining Sam Winchester, Sam (Thinks He) Doesn't Love Gabriel, Sam Winchester Loves Gabriel, also to LOTR, enjoy?????????????, like 15k of angst, movie marathons, seriously, some random references to the show, trigger warning: panic disorder and anxiety, unbeta'd cause i didnt feel like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilvermalec/pseuds/quicksilverdeancas, https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingisntapastime/pseuds/writingisntapastime
Summary: It started with Sam's anxiety. Really, if you think about it, it was all Sam's fault, he and his damn anxiety.(Nobody actually thought that.)orIn which there are many, many panic attacks, a couple of college students pine after each other, one of the coauthors forgot to tag the College AU but is too lazy to fix it, and there's a meddling lesbian. Also poor!Winchesters because I have a kink.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Gabriel, Charlie Bradbury & Sam Winchester, Gabriel & Dean Winchester, Gabriel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Gabriel & Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester & Dean Winchester
Series: Discord RPs [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550803
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Trust is A Two-Way Street

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingisntapastime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingisntapastime/gifts).



> FKDKDFJDFJKFJKFJKDJKFJKSFAJKLFJ I DON'T EVEN
> 
> I'M SORRY BUT I LOVE THIS??????? SO MUCH??????????/
> 
> Some of the Sam-Gabe interactions are straight out of my DMs with writingisntapastime. Oops. I might be projecting a little.
> 
> Enjoy...

Sam's hands were shaking. He was trembling, his whole body barely under his control. He somehow managed to tap the button, though, and as soon as he heard the click on the other end, he spoke. He didn't even wait to be greeted.

"Gabe," he breathed into the phone, his voice as shaky as his grip. "I- I need you. Please."

“Sammich? Dude are— are you alright?” Gabriel’s voice elevated in pitch as he continued, concern leaking from every pore. “What’s goin’ on, Samsquatch? Where are you?” Gabriel shuddered as he hears a labored breath on the other line.

"Um," Sam tried to focus. "I'm in- I'm in my bedroom. I- I had a panic attack," he admitted. "I wasn't expecting it, it's, uh, it's been a while since I had one but it just- it just happened and-"

It was getting harder to breathe by the second so he stopped talking and just breathed, tried to calm down. It doesn't work.

_Shit.. umm fuck. I don't know what to do Sammich._

"Okay, uhh just umm focus on my voice yeah? So what does your room look like? Don't tell me it has doors and windows. Tell me is your bed messy, are there books on your desk." Gabriel paused, hoping he wasn't making Sam's panic worse. He searched his room for his car keys and grabs his coat. "What does you floor feel like, Sam? Is it soft or hard? Warm or cold?"

"Oh, uh..." Sam glanced around.

"My history textbook is on my desk. It's under my math textbook and my notebook - the green one with the dog-eared pages. My laptop is charging next to it. There's a bunch of clothes on my bed 'cause I was doing laundry earlier." He reached out and ran his fingers along the wall. "Wall's a weird cream color. Feels rough and kinda bumpy. The floor's carpeted, but it's a soft carpet and I like laying on it when I do stuff. I have..." He took a deep breath, the second wave unexpectedly hitting him pretty hard.

"I have a Star Wars poster above my desk and the pan flag hanging over my bed. My initials are painted on the ceiling in dark green, like Dean's eyes."

Gabe was in the car and on the freeway by the time Sam finished describing his room. "Okay, but the real question here, Sam, is what Star Wars movie is the poster for? If it's The Phantom Menace I don't think I could look at you the same."

And just as Gabriel does, he fucked up trying to calm Sam down he went and says that shit. _Idiot._

Sam laughed a little at that. "Uh... no, it's an _Empire_ poster. Best Star Wars movie, hands-down, closely followed by TLJ."

 _It's okay I'm okay I'm gonna be okay I'm okay it's okay_. He felt it subsiding a little bit. "Just... just keep talking to me," he begged. "I'm still on attack, I need somethin' grounding me. Please."

He didn't know why he was babbling, he hated it when he did that. And he was probably annoying the fuck out of Gabriel, too, he was probably only even listening because he felt that dreaded sense of obligation toward his friend and- fuck his panic attack just got way worse.

Gabe finally pulled onto the Winchester’s street when he heard Sam start to beg. “Hey, okay. At least I still love you.” _oh fuck did I just say that? Fuck._ Gabe pull into the drive way and raced up to the door praying it was unlocked. “But like Empire dude, that last scene with Vader and Luke? C’mon. Biggest cinematic reveal of all time, amiright?” He turned the handle and the door quietly swung open. _Thank Chuck_.

"You- _love me_?" Sam choked out. That wasn't a thing any of his guy friends usually say to him. His girl friends, yes. Guys, notsomuch. Then he remembered that Gabriel had said something else. "Uh... yeah, it was pretty crazy. Whole world went insane when that went off, pretty much." He laughed nervously. "And then they waited for the confirmation in _Jedi_."

 _Fuck fuck fuck fuck._ Gabe closed the door behind him and quickly kicked off his sneakers before heading towards Sam's room. "Uh yeah, like what a way to build suspense for a film right?" Gabe walked down the hallway, his jacket making him overheat. "Hey uh Sam? Do you mind opening your door, maybe let someone in?" _Well here goes nothing._

Sam practically sprinted to the door to his bedroom and wrenched it open and lo and behold there was his best friend. "You- you're here," he said stupidly. "You came over to my house. Hi."

"Yeah I'm here you idiot, now are you going to let me into your room to give you a hug or not?"

Sam grabbed him and lifted him off his feet to hug him before stumbling backwards and landing in a pile of warm clean clothes on his bed. The physical contact helped more than anything else so far. "Hey," he whispered.

“Hey,” Gabe mumbled into Sam’s chest, before maneuvering so he could properly hug his best friend. Ignoring how much this hug was making him, well, wanted. “So, hey. About what I said over the phone earlier I—“ He couldn’t finish the sentence, he couldn’t figure out how even to address the bomb he dropped on the phone earlier. “You know what, actually. Why’d you call me? Not your brother?”

"Dean's workin' overtime today," Sam mumbles, "and if I told him I've been off my anxiety meds he'd probably kick my ass. Plus, I, uh..." He scratches the back of his neck. "I wanted you here. Didn't want Dean. Wanted you."

“You know Samaroo, it might just be me kicking your ass. You know the meds do the happy right? I want you to be happy.” Gabe paused, looking up at Sam with his long arms wrapped around him. This just felt right. “You’re very comfortable, I hope you know that.” Avoiding the problem. Again, but also not really.

"I just..." Sam didn't know how to begin to explain why he went off his meds. "Had insomnia. Couldn't sleep when I was on 'em, and it was handy when I needed to study, but once I started really wanting to sleep it was bothering me. Plus they made me depressed as hell and flighty and I just forgot to take 'em one morning and I felt _better_ so I just sorta stopped. It's only been a few days, though," he added quickly, so Gabe wouldn't jump to the conclusion that he'd been just _not taking_ his medication for months or more.

"Have you been to your therapist recently? Maybe they can get you on different meds? Try something else? Until then I'm not going anywhere." And he meant it. Even if it meant missing work and class, he wasn't leaving Sam's side. "Well, actually I don't particularly want to join you in the bathroom so you can do that one by yourself. Kapeesh?"

"He was sick last week and I had a conflict this week, so it's been a little while. But I'm gonna see him in a couple of days, so that'll probably help." He took a deep breath. Having Gabe there with him, a warm, heavy weight on his chest (but the comforting kind, not the burdening kind), was helping his attack immensely. "Thanks," he muttered. "You're... you're the best. I love you." The words felt odd on his tongue, but he decided he liked them. And they were true, too. He did love Gabe, quite a lot.

Gabe's eyes widen when Sam finished talking. "You-- you love me? Like I just, but you're so. Ugh, I can't even begin to describe how I feel about you Sam. I just." Gabe buried his head into Sam's chest. "You're too perfect."

"Woah," Sam muttered before he could stop himself. "A, what do you mean 'how you feel about me', and B, I'm not even close to perfect. I'm actually quite a bit of a fuckup, if you think about it."

Gabe's head shot up, "Wait you heard me say that? Fuck you have good hearing. But like you are Sam. Every damn thing about you is perfect, I wouldn't even know where to start. And I guess now is as good a time as any to come out." He laid his head back on Sam's chest, taking a slow breath, matching the rhythm of Sam's. "I think I'm pan."

Sam shrugged. "Cool. Me too, as you already know and could probably tell from the pan flag in my bedroom. I think that's awesome. I need more bi and pan friends if I'm being really honest, I don't have enough. Just you and Dean... and Charlie, if we're talking queer umbrella."

He shifted so he was looking right into his best friend's eyes. "Now stop avoiding the question. What did you mean when you said you can't describe how you feel about me?"

Gabe did everything in his power to avoid his best friend's eyes. "Pfft, I'm not avoiding the question. Now that I think about it, when did you paint that on your ceiling and why may I ask?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Okay, that was about the most obvious topic change in the history of topic changes, but whatever. I'll humor you since you obviously don't want to talk about it right now."

If Sam was being honest, he didn't particularly want to hear it, either. He was asking because of his overwhelming curiosity, but he was afraid of the answer. He had a theory about what Gabe had meant by that, and it was something he didn't want to be privy to.

He didn't want to hear about how Gabriel had feelings for him and/or was madly in love with him, because he was afraid he couldn't do the same, he couldn't be that back for Gabriel. He loved him, but not... romantically. He didn't think.

"When I was... eight, I think," he told his friend. "Dean and I carved our initials into the Impala when I was seven and he was eleven, and we kind of couldn't get over it. Had a little mini-obsession where we just put them all over the place. So mine are in here and his are on the ceiling in his room in blue."

“Shut up. That is literally the sappiest story I have ever heard.” Gabe finally met Sam’s eyes and it felt like he broke inside. Sam was hiding something. How he really felt, like always. Gabe wasn’t one to press though, knowing that can lead to messy fallouts. God knows he’s be through so many of those.

"Hey..." Sam called, waving a hand in front of Gabe's face. "You alright? Where'd you go?" he asked once Gabe came back to him. "Looked like you were... a million miles away. You okay?"

Gabe shook his head, trying to clear his mind to no avail. “Huh, oh yeah. Sorry. Guess I got lost in my own head,” he chuckled. “Hey, how are you doing now though? We less panicky more calmy?”

Sam nodded eagerly. "You always know what to say, Gabe," he murmured, pulling his friend closer. "Every time. You never fail me, you never let me down, you're always there. Thank you." It barely took him ten minutes of laying there, amidst the many plaid flannels and pairs of sweatpants, holding his best friend, to fall asleep.

Gabe laid there, under the arms of his friend he not-so-secretly had a crush on. _Fuck Sam, why do you have to do this to my heart._ Gabe rested his head back on Sam’s chest and fell asleep to the steady beating of his heart.

Dean got home around 7pm, having clocked in four hours extra at the shop than he was supposed to work today. Ah, well. At least he was getting paid.

He made his way up to Sam's room and banged loudly on the open door, smirking at his kid brother wrapped all the way around his kid brother's best friend. When Sam jerked awake, he wiped the look off his face and demanded, "have you eaten yet?"

"No," Sam replied timidly. "Sorry, Dean, I was-"

"I'm making you both Angel Hair pasta with meatballs. And you ain't gonna complain."

He stalked downstairs.

Sam glanced at Gabriel and shrugged. "I never complain about Angel Hair."

Gabe was woken up because his bed started moving, until he remembered he fell asleep on Sam. He looked up at Sam still groggy from sleep and grinned. “Morning sunshine.”

"Mornin'," Sam greeted, smiling. "Am I a good enough mattress for ya?"

Gabe snuggled back into Sam, nodding. “Warm.”

Sam laughed, then sighed contentedly and closed his eyes again. "Just a few more minutes. Just 'til Dean's done with the food. We can sleep, right?" He hasn't moved his arms in hours but he doesn't care. Gabriel feel so _good_ , pinned where he is, Sam doesn't want him to go.

Gabe rumbled something that sounded like agreement and was almost immediately back to snoring on top of Sam.

"Hey! Bitch! It's 7:30 and you haven't had dinner yet, so stop fucking your boyfriend for two seconds and get your lazy ass downstairs!" Dean called up the stairs.

Moments later, Sam stumbled through the door to his bedroom, Gabe in tow, shouting back "fuck you too, jerk!"

Gabe sat down at the table with a steaming bowl of pasta sat for him. He drew his arms into the sleeves of his coat to warm up a bit. “Uh thanks for the food Dean. Much appreciated.”

"Yeah, what he said," Sam muttered, gesturing in the general direction of his friend. He gave his brother a one-armed hug and sat at the table, pulling the plate of pasta toward himself hungrily. "Damn, this shit is always so good. You fuckin' rock, Dean."

The three of them dug into the food, not really speaking until the plates were clear. Gabe piled his cutlery on top of his plate and let out a chuckle. “Well I’m stuffed. I could really use another nap.”

Sam laughed with him. "You've already slept like, half the day away. I think you're fine. Let's watch a movie instead."

Gabe raised his hands in surrender and let out a small laugh. “Fine, fine. You’ve made your point. So Gigantor, what movie did you have in mind?”

"LotR marathon?" Sam suggested. Dean's head snapped up.

"I'm on board if you are," he said to Gabriel.

Gabe shook his head and took off towards the pantry. “My dudes, there isn’t enough food in this house for that length of marathon. And we are talking about the extended editions correct?”

"We only own the extended editions," Sam told him. "And I was gonna make a grocery run anyway so I'm planning on getting several boxes of popcorn and several bags of peanut M&Ms, and none of us are working tomorrow so we're probably fine staying up until 1am. Let's do this shit!" he shouted, grinning, panic attack forgotten.

Gabe smiled up at Sam, _God I love this idiot._ “So, grocery run now then? I need some candy for this movie marathon so I’m coming with.”

"Damn straight you are. I got a bonus at work last week so I have some extra cash to spend on my best friend. Let's go." He turned to his brother.

"Keys, jerk?"

Dean tossed them to him, shooting him a protective glare. "You scratch my Baby and you're dead, bitch," he warned.

Sam laughed. "I know."

“You two are real strange, you know that?” Gabe shook his head as he walked to the front door to slip his runners back on. “And no way are you spending your bonus on me. I think I have enough cash on me.” Gabe felt his pockets for his wallet. “Shit.”

"It's fine, I have money," Sam told him. "Seriously. It's fine. Let's just go." Then he sighed. "Look, if it really matters that much to you, you can pay me back later. Now c'mon."

Gabe huffed and put on his best puppy-dog eyes. “Okay, but you better not reject me paying you back when I get the cash like you did last time.” Gabe started laughing. “God, how do you function when you pull out your puppy-dog eyes? I can’t take myself seriously.”

Sam smirked at him as they made their way out to the car. "I've perfected the technique. It involves _believing_ in the puppy eyes entirely, not letting the silliness get to you." He flashed a sideways grin at Gabriel. "It's about _acting_."

“Oh well you would know, theatre nerd.” Gabe chuckled to himself as he ducked into the passenger side of the Impala. “Does Dean ever think he’ll get a new car?”

"Nope," Sam replied cheerfully. "I'm fairly certain he's going to die in this car and have her buried with him." He started the car, ran his hands over the steering wheel, and then pulled out onto the road. "So, I have 50 bucks on top of the grocery money, which includes popcorn, so we have 50 bucks for 8 bags of Peanut M&Ms, my Junior Mints, and whatever candy you want."

“You are literally a god-send Sam. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” Gabe stared out the window, watching the trees and houses fly by. Though maybe a little too fast for a residential are. “Wow dude, where’s the fire?”

Sam laughed heartily. "We're barely doin' twenty and look at that- there's the main street," he pointed out as he turned onto it. "Don't @ me bro."

“Fine, fine, whatever you say.” Gabe peeked off of the window as they turned onto the next street. “Are we just stopping at Walmart or...?

"No fuckin' way are we going to _Walmart_ ," Sam told him. "Fred Meyer it is. It's just a little farther." Only about a minute later, he pulled into the Fred Meyer parking lot. "See? C'mon, we gotta get food before Dean starts wondering if we ran off and eloped without telling him."

_Why the fuck did he say that? It was just a joke but... fuck. It was a stupid joke._

“Now Sammich, don’t pull on my heart strings like that. At least buy me dinner first.” As per usual, Gabe didn’t help the awkward tension between them in the slightest. But if there was anything he could do to make Sam blush like, God knew he would do it. “And really? Fred Meyer?”

"Yes, Fred Meyer," Sam snapped back heatlessly. "Fred Meyer is the ultimate grocery store, at least in USAmerica. Now, c'mon, we gotta grab lots of candy."

As soon as Sam turned off the engine Gabe was hopping out of the car, vibrating from the prospect of candy. “I will concede that Fred Meyer is the ultimate grocery store if you get out of the car faster.”

"Ohohhh so it's like that," Sam stated, slamming his door shut before sprinting across the parking lot and easily beating his friend to the front entrance. "Now you gotta say it," he announced, grinning at Gabriel.

“Just... lemme catch... m’breath,” Gabe wheezed our once he finally made it to the entrance. After about a minute he was able to chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. Fred Meyer is the best grocery store. Happy now?”

Sam laughed with him. "Yeah, pretty." He grabbed Gabe's hand without thinking about it and dragged him into the candy aisle. "Okay, Junior Mints for me..." he hummed, grabbing three boxes. "Peanut M&Ms for Dean..." He grabbed four bags. "And... whadda you want?"

Gabe was pulled out of his thoughts as soon as Sam asked him, after being distracted that Sam grabbed his hand. “Hmm? Oh um yeah. Whatever works for me.”

"Dude, I'm giving you a choice. We got Nerds, we got Snickers, we got KitKats, we got SweetTarts, we got Sour Patch, we got Skittles... what do you want, man?" Sam was just standing there staring at him impatiently.

 _Shit, he was looking for an actual answer._ “Well, let’s go with Nerds, Skittles and SweetTarts.” Gabe grabbed all three, taking his hand out of Sam’s grip to do so. Ignoring the drop in his heart.

Sam's stomach was not supposed to plummet when Gabriel dropped his hand to grab his candy. That was... new, to say the least. "Okay, great. That's only like 15 bucks, dude, you sure you don't need more?" He elbowed his best friend teasingly.

Gabe grinned as he looked up at Sam. “Well in that case also fuzzy peaches, Sour Patch Kids and sour watermelons. I think that about sums it up.” Gabe stepped back from the wall and turned to his right. “Oh, and sour gummy worms. Okay, I’m good now.”

Sam grinned. "Perfect. Thirty-two dollars and thirty-eight cents including tax and yes, Gabriel, I did do that in my head, stop making fun of me. Now we gotta grab more pasta for Dean as well as a couple of other groceries and then we can GTFO."

Gabe scoffs, “What a nerd. Okay do you remember what isle the pasta is in then? I need to get my LotR on.” Gabe stopped. “Y’know. Just forget I said that. Let’s go.”

“I know exactly where it is- y'know what, here." He shoved his wad of cash into Gabriel's hand. "Go pay for the candy - grab popcorn too, while you're at it, it's down there - and I'll get the groceries. Meet me back at the car in ten minutes."

Gabe practically sprinted to grab the popcorn and back, and then decided he looked stupid and walked over to the self-checkout because people suck. He was sitting in the car less than 5 minutes later, waiting for his golden retriever of a best friend to find his way out of the store.

Sam made his way out of the store ten minutes later holding about eight bags and glared at his best friend, who was just sitting in the passenger seat dicking around on his phone. Once he'd dumped all the groceries in Gabe's lap and slid into his own seat, he announced, "you could have helped me, you know."

Gabe looked up from his phone with a shit eating grin on his face. “Nah Sam. I just wanted you to exercise those big, strong arms of yours.”

“Stop thirsting over my biceps and make sure nothing falls," Sam told him firmly, trying to hide his flush as best he could as he pulled them out onto the main road and sped back toward their house.

Gabe looks over at Sam as he hugs the food, noticing the blush creeping over Sam’s cheeks. “I heard that if you use green concealer it helps cover up red spots. Don’t know if it’s do much for your blush though.”

"God, fuck you," Sam muttered, and they rode the rest of the way in silence. When they pulled into the parking lot, Sam smiled at Gabriel to try to smooth it over. "Sorry, I'm a bit on edge."

Gabe looked over at Sam a smiled, a genuine smile rather than a sarcastic smirk. “No problem big guy. Let’s just get inside so we can watch these movies.” Gabriel went to get out of the car, instead falling out and taking the food with him.

Sam sighed heavily and walked around the front of the car to take a few bags from him. "C'mon, we gotta start this marathon sometime this century if we're planning on finishing it in time." He shouldered his plastic grocery bags and headed toward the door, not bothering to help his friend stand.

Gabe brushed off his pants as he stood up, then grabbed the remaining bags and followed Sam into the house. Once he got inside and closed the door behind him, he kicked of his runners and placed the bags on the floor. “Hey Dean, are the movies queued up yet?” Gabriel shouted as he hung up his coat, then picked the bags up and brought them into the kitchen.

"Damn right they are," Dean shouted back, sticking his head into the entryway and flashing Gabe a thumbs-up. "C'mon, let's get this show on the road."

Sam smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. "I agree, we gotta do this."

Gabe reached for his bag of candy and bolted for a spot on the couch, opening the bag of skittles as he sat down. “Hurry over Samsquatch. I may just press play without you here.”

"Don't you freaking dare," Sam shouted, unlacing his boots at record speed and quite literally jumping onto the couch, landing heavily between his brother and best friend and grabbing the popcorn bowl Dean had made up for him. "Okay I'm ready, hit it!"

Gabe pressed play on the remote and the first scene of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ began to play, and the trio sat in silence. Everyone’s full attention on the movie it seemed, though Gabriel kept getting lost in thought. He was brought out of his mind when Gandalf was as questioning Bilbo about the Ring. “Mm Sam, pass me my watermelons please n’ thank you.”

"Course," Sam murmured, handing the bag to his friend. "I ain't been droppin' no eaves, sir, honest," he quoted along with Sean Astin on screen. He smiled sideways at Gabriel, hoping to make him laugh. His Samwise Gamgee impression was, and always had been, spot-on.

Gabe grabbed the bag from Sam letting out a small snort before he covered his mouth with his free hand. “Dammit, you’re too good at that.”

Sam leaned back triumphantly, turning his attention back to the screen. "Hell yeah I am. Been practicing since I was six. If I wasn't good, I'd be disappointed in myself."

He pillowed his head in his hands, his elbows stuck out to the sides, his legs crossed at the knee. Fuck, he was about to fall asleep again. He sat up straighter and started shoveling more popcorn into his mouth.

 _Good god, he’s so close right now._ Gabe took this opportunity to shift closer to Sam, praying he was tired enough not to notice.

Sam stretched his arm out, wrapping it around Gabriel's shoulders. It felt so... _right_. So natural, to be able to pull him against his body and just cuddle with him, as cheesy as it sounded. He loved it, he relished in it.

Gabe curled into Sam, all self-consciousness thrown out the window. He was asleep by the time the Aragorn met Frodo.

Sam looked down at the blond snoring quietly in his lap. He brushed a little of his long hair out of his face, then pulled him a little closer to his chest. "So, uh..." Dean sounded extremely uncomfortable. "What's up with the two of you?" Sam glanced at him. "I'm not sure what you mean," he replied evenly.

Dean looked down at his little brothers best friend, sleeping curled into his brother. He didn’t think Gabriel would be able to get closer if he tried. “Well I don’t know about you, but me and my friends don’t typically cuddle or fall asleep on each other. Just sayin’” he shrugged as he looked back towards the screen.

Sam laughed. "I mean, that ain't entirely true." When Dean blushed and resolutely stared at the TV, Sam pointed at him victoriously. "Dude, I've walked in on you and Cas hugging way more intimately than most people do, even family. Don't frickin lie to me."

Dean scratched the back of his neck, blush still growing. “I never actually said anything about Cas y’know. I said friends.”

"Yeah. Cas is your friend. Ain't he? Or is there something you're not telling me?" Sam demanded, trying hard not to smile.

“Ugh- fuck, Sam, you’re such a bitch,” Dean turned to glare at his brother. “About a month.”

"What?" Sam pulled away to look at his brother. "About a month _what_ , jerk?"

“We’ve been keeping things slow okay?” Dean looked down at his hands, “He finally grew the required balls to ask me out last month.”

"Holy fucking-" Sam cut himself off abruptly, trying to keep his voice down so he didn't wake his friend. "You got asked out by the guy you've been in love with for six years and you _didn't tell me????_ " he hissed angrily. "For an entire month? Dude, what gives? I thought we had an agreement!"

Dean meant against the back of the couch. “Dude, just forget about the agreement okay? It was stupid. We were children.” He shook his head. “And besides, my love life isn’t any... well shit.”

"Dude, the agreement was I teach you about guys because you have no idea how to talk to them and you tell me about every guy you like. When Castiel moved here and you _immediately_ started crushing on him, I could tell immediately, and it took you like, two weeks to say anything. And now... this. I don't care that much about the agreement but I love you and I want to be involved in your life, alright? You gotta tell me this stuff."

Sam took a deep breath, satisfied that he'd drawn the conversation safely away from himself and Gabriel.

Dean stared straight (well not really) at Sam. “No, you don’t get to do this. I know your tricks Sammy. You don’t get off that easy. Now you and Gabriel? How long?”

Sam sighed. "Never," he told his brother. "Gabe's in love with me, and... and that's it, I guess. I don't- I don't feel that way about him. Wish I could, cause I just want him happy, but I don't and I can't, so I just... we've never talked about it. I ignore it, and you should too."

Dean looked over at the protective grip Sam had on Gabriel, “Don’t feel that way my ass. Whatever. Let’s just watch the movie if you just feel like suppressing your emotions.” Dean patted his brother’s shoulder before giving his full attention back to the movie and food in front of him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sam murmured absently, looking back at the TV. He could already feel himself drifting, covered with this safety, security, the heavy warm blanket that was his best friend. Sam was asleep by the time Dean got up to put in _The Two Towers_. Dean was asleep before Two Towers ended.

* * *

Sam cornered Gabriel on his way to his car. He practically shoved him up against it and said, "dude, we need to talk."

Gabe looked up at Sam, shock evident on his face. “What’s with the hostility Sammich?”

Sam sighed and stepped away. "Sorry, I- sorry. I was afraid if I tried to talk to you about it any other time you'd just... leave."

Gabe brushed off his jacket, still looking at Sam. “What did I say yesterday? I’m not going to leave you.”

"I didn't mean for permanent, I meant until- fuck, I'm not good at this!" Sam groaned, dropping his hands heavily to his sides. "I... we never got back to that thing we were talking about in my bedroom yesterday. About how you feel about me."

Gabe suddenly thought the ground was mighty interesting. “Oh. That.”

"Yeah," Sam agreed quietly. "That." He couldn't find it in himself to look at his best friend. "Uh, look, I just. I need to know. It's driving me crazy, I just need to know what you meant by that."

Gabe didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity. He took a deep breath and looked up at his friend, best friend. And he prayed what he was about to say wouldn’t fuck that up. “I’ve been in love with you for the better part of a year. That’s what I meant.”

"Well. Fuck," Sam whispered. "Just absolutely fucking fuck. That's- that's fantastic. Jesus..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," was all he could think to say. "That really must suck for you."

“Wait— really suck for me? What the hell are you talking about?” Gabe looked utterly dumbfounded. _God I hope I don’t give him another panic attack over this. Fuck._

"Well, for one thing, I'm the worst, and I've been trying to figure out why you even stay my friend for the last two or three years, and also, it really fucking sucks to be in love with someone who doesn't love you back. I- I'm sorry, Gabe, I just... I can't do that for you. I can't be that for you. I'm so sorry."

He tried not to let himself cry in front of Gabriel, but when he felt the hot tears prick his eyes anyway, he gave up, turned, and walked away.

Gabe stared at his best friend as he walked away from him. _Way to fuck up Gabe. You made him leave you._ He took one last look at the Winchester house before getting into his car, slamming the door, and speeding off, immediately regretting the last 24 hours of his life.

Sam took a deep, shaky breath as he watched Gabriel drive away. _What the fuck have I done?_ he wondered sadly. _I've just lost my best friend, haven't I? And it's all my fault, me and the fact that I can't ever feel like that about him. I'm sorry, Gabriel. I'm so, so fucking sorry._

Gabriel pulled up to a stop light, radio off. He lets loose on the steering wheel, punching it until he thought he might break it. _I fucking ruined the best thing I had because of fucking feelings. Way to fucking go Gabe. You’re a whole new level of stupid._

Eventually, Sam turned away from the window.

"What happened to him?" Dean asked quietly, somehow knowing there were Issues™️ without Sam ever having to tell him. He was good at reading his brother that way, and Sam appreciated it in moments like these.

"I pissed him off," he answered simply, not meeting Dean's eyes.

Dean watched his brother saunter off to his room, so many things being left unspoken. Dean, however, knew better than to poke at a sleeping bear. He just went back to cleaning up the disaster leftover from the night before.

Sam sighed as he slumped onto his bed. "I'm so screwed. I can't believe..." _I can't believe I did that._

* * *

Monday morning eventually rolled around, Gabe refusing to acknowledge what that meant. Differential Calculus. The one class he had with Sam, the one he was failing and needing Sam’s help to pass. He shrugged his bag higher on his shoulder as he entered the lecture hall, looking for an empty seat. Thankfully he had gotten to the school 15 minutes early, even getting himself a coffee for this god awful 8am class. He sat down, and placed his bag beside him, taking out his notebook and laptop for the slides.

Sam saw Gabe in the hall, an empty seat directly behind him. He rushed over to it. "Hey, you okay?" he asked. "Look, I'm sorry about-" He cut himself off when he saw his friend. (If he was even that anymore.) The look on his face was absolutely murderous.

Gabe slowly turned to face Sam, didn’t let his face falter. “No. Sam. I am evidently not okay. You could do us all a favour if you’d shut up.” Gabriel turned back to face the front of the lecture all as the professor walked in. Gabe grabbed his calculator out of his bag and set to work on the first problem, hoping Sam would drop the conversation.

Sam took a deep breath, trying not to let on to how much his ex-best friend's words stung. "I'm... so sorry," he whispered helplessly as he dropped into his chair. His bag slipped off his shoulder and landed on the ground with a thud, and he got next to nothing out of the whole class.

With about 5 minutes left in the lecture, Gabe started to pack up. “Wow now everyone,” the professor called out. “I just wanted to remind you all that there is an assignment posted online that is due by midnight tonight. I will not be accepting late submissions.” Gabe had completely forgotten about said assignment. _Fuck I’m screwed for this. Sam was supposed to help me with it over the weekend._

"Hey, do you still need help with that?" Sam asked, leaning forward. "I have it pretty much done, I can help you..." he trailed off uncertainly. Gabriel was stiff as a board, like he was prepared for an attack.

“Sam. Why do you keeping trying to help? You made your feelings towards me pretty damn clear the other day. Now back off.” Gabe stood, grabbed his bag and stormed out of the room. Leave several confused students in his wake.

"Gabe, just because I can't be that for you doesn't mean we can't still be friends," he tried to explain, following his friend at a faster pace than his general walking speed. "I just... I wasn't trying to be insensitive, I- most of that was my feelings about myself, had nothing to do with you!"

Gabe stopped dead in his tracks and spun to look at Sam. “No, you just don’t get it do you? I was vulnerable. I opened up to you. And you took what I said to you and threw it back in my face.” Gabe gazed at the growing crowd, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “This isn’t something I can just move on from Sam. You can’t just apologize and expect me to go back to being your friend, no problem. It doesn’t work that way.”

"I..." Sam didn't know how to respond to that. "I wasn't trying to throw your feelings in your face. I was afraid of that, and then when you confirmed it it was like 'oh shit' and 'wait WHAT' at the same time and I didn't react very well I just-" He sighed. "Fuckit. I'll just leave you alone forever now."

“Perfect for me.” Gabe turned away from Sam, headed straight to the parking lot. Needing to leave the campus, and Sam, as quickly as possible.

Sam watched him for a moment, then turned away, walked slowly back into the lecture hall, picked up his bag, and made his way back home.

In. The fucking. Rain. Because apparently Sam Winchester's life is a cliché romcom now.

Gabe had made it back to his car just as the rain picked up. He started the car, and waited for the windows to defog. While he waited he started blasting some alternative music, and was jamming out. That is until he saw Sam walking through the very wet parking lot, sans jacket. His first instinct was to offer Sam a ride, but instead he just through the car into drive and sped home.

When Sam finally slammed the front door of the house he and Dean shared shut behind him and stormed into the kitchen, Dean gave him an alarmed look. "No, I am not okay," Sam told him sternly before he even opened his mouth. "And no, I very much do not want to talk about it."

(That was a lie. But Dean didn't need to know that.)

Dean put down the knife he was using to cut some food and turned to face his brother. He couldn’t let this shit stew any longer. He had to talk to his kid brother.

“Now that is some utter bullshit Sammy. What the hell is going on with you?”

Sam took a deep breath and then, completely unexpectedly, started to _sob_ in the middle of the kitchen, feeling so much shame and guilt.

"I stopped taking my anxiety meds because they were fucking with my sleep schedule and making me depressed as fuck and then I had a panic attack the other day and Gabe helped me through it. And he said something dumb offhand that grabbed my attention and I kept asking him about it and he just sorta yelled at me that he's in love with me but I'm not in love with him so I said that and now he's mad at me."

He turned away from Dean, his face burning, so he didn't have to see the reaction and reached into the pantry to grab a napkin to wipe his face with.

Dean walked over to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Well first off, you shouldn’t go off your meds. That was a shit idea. When’s your next appointment with what’s-her-face? See if you can’t try different meds to y’know sleep? I think my benefits should be able to cover it. Maybe Gabriel just needs to blow off some steam. Things just need to settle down, and it’ll all get back to normal soon enough.”

"I mean, yeah, I know it's a shit idea, but it's the choice between making myself vulnerable to panic disorder or making myself basically incapable of functioning due to lack of sleep and frequent depressive episodes. It's a lose-lose situation and I was trying to make the best of it, so sue me."

Sam immediately felt guilty for snapping at his brother. He took a deep breath to clear his head and then said, "sorry, Dean."

Finally, he turned to look at him in the eye, leaning back against the wall. "I'm not seeing Cadence anymore, remember? My new therapist is that guy Dan. And I'm gonna see him on Wednesday, actually, so I'll talk to him about it then. And I don't think he just needs to 'blow off some steam'. It sounded like he never wants to talk to me again. Which... fucking sucks. He's my best friend, Dean. And he's the one who helps me when I'm on attack because I can't come to you because we don't talk about things."

Dean looked down, feeling somewhat guilty that his brother wouldn’t come to him for help. But Sam made a good point, Dean just wasn’t that good with feelings and such. “We could, y’know, talk about _things_ if you really wanted. If not that’s cool. But hey, what time is your appointment Wednesday? I’ll give you a ride.”

Sam hesitated for a second, then gave in and hugged his brother. "I always _want_ to talk to you," he said in an attempt to clarify. "I just... never feel like I can. I'm always afraid you aren't gonna listen or you're just gonna tell me to get over it. But yeah, I want to."

He pulled away, clearing his throat. "Uh... 3. You off work by then?" He laughed suddenly. "Nope, you're... you're not working on Wednesday. I'm an idiot." Then he smiled. "Thanks, Dean."

“The only idiot here is me Sam. Don’t worry. So 3, right?” Dean looked to Sam for confirmation. “I gotta get to the shop. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, or anything I would do. See yah Sammy.”

"There's a little gray area in the middle, and that's where I operate," Sam answered in a tone that clearly said he'd said it about a hundred times before.

"Yeah, just make sure we leave by 2:45. I can't be late considering I haven't seen him in three weeks. Love you, talk to you later."

“See you later bitch.” Dean chuckled as he was walking out the door, leaving it open as he left.

"Eat me, jerk!" Sam screamed at him, shoving the door closed behind him.

* * *

Sam stared at the text from Charlie.

 _Hey,_ it read. _Did you finish that analysis for Professor Mills?_

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered. His phone fell out of his hand and landed on the floor with a loud clatter as he brought both hands up to bury them in his hair. "God _fucking_ \- that's due tomorrow and I haven't even started it." He was so screwed.

And it wasn't just a small assignment, either. It was a project they'd been given two weeks to complete and then he'd completely forgotten about it. Fuck.

And then he was on the floor, his heart beating faster than almost ever, and oh, wouldja look at that, another panic attack. How fun.

"Hey Siri call Gabe," he shouted at his discarded phone, still running his fingers through his too-long hair.

"Calling Gabriel Novak; mobile," Siri replied in her cheerful Australian voice. The phone rang six times and then-

"This is Gabe. I'm probably pranking someone. Leave a message."

Right. Gabriel was mad at him. Well... fuck.

 **Sexybeast:** stop trying to call me sam. not in the mood

 **Samshine:** Gabriel plz talk to me in so sorry and im freaking out rn

 **Sexybeast:** for fucks sake sam just leave me alone. i don’t want to deal with your problems

 **Samshine:** it's not abt that icant function  
 **Samshine:** i just want my best friend back  
 **Samshine:** don't leave me Gabe

 **Sexybeast:** We're sorry. Your message could not be delivered to this number.  
 **Sexybeast:** We're sorry. Your message could not be delivered to this number.  
 **Sexybeast:** We're sorry. Your message could not be delivered to this number.

Sam's breath was coming in shaky bursts at unpredictable intervals. He was fairly certain at least a little bit of his hair was coming away between his fingers. Dean should've forced him to swallow his meds before he left the day before. Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

He grabbed the door handle so he had something to support himself. He could do this. He could do this he could do this he could do this he could-

He couldn't do this.

"Hey, Siri," he choked out weakly. "Call Dean."

"Calling Dean 'Jerk' Winchester; mobile," Siri replied.

Dean was under a 1963 Bel-air when he heard his phone vibrating on the counter. He slid out from under the car and grabbed a grease covered cloth in an attempt to clean his hands before he answered the phone call from Sam. “Hey Sammy, what’s kickin’?”

"I..." Sam's voice was shaky. "Forgot to take my meds this mornin' even though I said I would. I'm having another attack over an assignment and Gabe blocked my number. Dean..." he broke off into a choked sob. "Help."

“Shit, fuck. Okay uh just breath, okay? I’ll be home in 10– make that 5 minutes. Shit. What am I supposed to do?” Dean said frantically as he searched for his keys and runs to the Impala phone in hand.

"Just talk me down," Sam whimpered desperately. "Even if that means telling me a bunch of details about something I could give a fuck about, anything to distract me from the anxiety."

Dean turned on the ignition and threw the car into drive, speeding out of the parking lot. “Okay. Shit. Actually. So right now I’m working on a ‘63 Bel-air. She’s a beauty but the bag-o-dicks who owns her doesn’t know shit about maintenance. He’s let the entire undercarriage rust out, the fuel line’s about ready to split, and the shell of the car is rusting too. It’s like man has no appreciation for good cars anymore.” Dean whipped through streets as he tried to talk his brother down, blowing several stop signs and speed limits along the way.

"Okay," Sam muttered, feeling his heart rate slow a little. "So on our normal scale of 4 to Baby, how fucked is she? And how much do you think this guy's 'You're An Idiot Who Doesn't Know How To Properly Take Care of A Car' fee is gonna be?"

“How about negative 16 times 10 to the power of 16. And dude, I don’t even know how much this is going to cost me in supplies alone.” Dean finally turned the corner of their street. “I’ll have to take you to the shop tomorrow maybe just to show you the level of idiot it took.”

Sam actually laughed, doing some quick calculations in his head. "Ten to the sixteenth, that's ten quadrillion. So negative one hundred and sixty quadrillion? On a scale that starts at four?" He shook his head. "Are you sure you're even gonna be able to fix this poor bastard's ride?"

Dean turned into the driveway and shut off the Impala. He hopped out of the car and practically sprinted into the house. “Honestly dude I have zero clue.” Dean grabbed the handle to open the door. “Did you seriously lock the door when I left this morning?”

"I always do," Sam told him. "Shit, I made you leave work without even calling your boss, I'm so fuckin' sorry dude, I can't believe- god, I just keep fucking everything up. I need to stop. I need to move out of your damn house and get a job and fucking stop."

He was crying again. Goddammit, he was crying. Again.

Dean has managed to unlock the door while Sam was talking but ran up to his room once he heard him crying. He got to Sam’s room, hung up the phone, opened Sam’s door and found Sam sitting on the floor.

“Hey Sammy.” With a sigh of almost relief Dean went over to his brother, sat down next to him, and opened his arms. “I’m going to hug you now. Are you okay if I hug you?”

Instead of answering, Sam just lunged toward Dean, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his shoulder, still ugly crying and intermittently whispering "I'm sorry" and "I'm such a fuckup."

After a very long, awkward period of near-silence, Sam pulled away, wiped at his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and avoided his brother's eyes. "Sorry, Dean," he muttered. "I know you don't like doing this and I know I'm embarrassing myself and I know I should probably leave, I- I'm sorry." He stared resolutely at the carpet.

Dean put his hand on Sam’s neck forcing Sam to look at him. “You are not a fucking fuck-up Sam. Take it from the high school dropout. You are doing so good. So fucking good. And the best people always have setbacks. It just makes them more determined. And I am determined to be there for my little brother. No more of this ‘I don’t want to upset Dean’ bullshit. There is nothing you could to upset, bother, or hurt me. Okay?”

Sam took a deep, shaky breath and nodded, despite the fact that he couldn't really feel the love he knew Dean was trying to give him. "Thanks," he croaked. "I... thanks, dude. I love you too."

Dean looked at his brother, and wished he could take the hurt out of his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I love you, bitch,” he said, as he pulled Sam into another hug.

Sam almost laughed. "Don't have to be such a jerk about it," he mumbled, but he was smiling into Dean's leather jacket. "I just..." another shaky breath. "I just keep screwing things up. Screwed up my relationship with Gabe, screwed up my schoolwork - which, by the way, I'm dangerously close to losing my scholarship because my grades are plummeting because of my mental health - and, I mean, then there's the obvious."

“We can get through this, okay? We’re a team, remember? I’ll pull some extra hours at the shop to get you a tutor if that’s what you need. Gabe isn’t the end of the world.” Dean took out his phone and handed it to his brother. “You and Charlie still talk right? Invite her over for dinner or something. Oh, And what’s obvious?”

Sam looked up at his brother helplessly. "Mom," he whispered simply. "You can't tell me you've never thought she'd still be here if I'd never been born. I've thought it enough times that I wouldn't believe you if you did. I love you, Dean, but I'm not worth it."

He averted his eyes again, the shame taking over. "And Jesus Christ, I can't ask you to work _even more_ overtime. I know you love it but you're already runnin' yourself ragged just to put food on the table. And yeah, Gabe pretty much _is_ the end of my world. He's one of two friends I've managed to keep over the years and I love him second to you and you only!"

He paused, then finally took the phone from his brother and said, "okay. I'll talk to Charlie. I'm sorry, I didn't want to do this to you."

Dean shook his head. “Do you remember when I was maybe 15, you were about 11 and we moved to that small nothing-to-do town? I was gone for a couple of weeks. Dad sent me to a home because of things I had said. About you. I was mad, Sammy. I was hurting. But the guy there turned my anger towards you off. I was really angry at Dad. Never you. You are not the reason Mom’s gone. Dad is.” Dean let go of Sam and stood up.

“If Charlie is coming over, I gotta get started on some food. Let me know if you need anything.”

"Yeah, I remember," Sam muttered as Dean pulled away from him. There was a very small but very loud corner of his mind that was screaming two very persuasive things at him: _Dean said things about you, things that were bad enough that Dad put him in a home_ and _Dean's walking away, because Dean doesn't love you_.

"And how's that, exactly?" he demanded before he could stop himself. He was still sitting on the floor and Dean was standing in the doorway, but he stopped moving when Sam spoke. "Why's it Dad's fault and not mine?"

Dean stopped at the door, about to leave and he turned around and sat back on the floor so he was eye level with Sam.

“I was sent to live with Bobby for those couple of weeks. I had thought because you were sick when you were born Mom could deal and she abandoned us.” Dean shook his head. “God I felt so horrible when Bobby told me what actually happened.”

Dean sighed. “So basically, you were born really sick. But you got better. Mom got depressed. Postpartum depression or some shit. It can happen to anyone apparently. Mom and Dad fought a lot, and it didn’t help Mom at all.

“Then things got bad. According to Bobby Mom became suicidal and Dad couldn’t deal. So he took us and split. He abandoned her Sammy. Bobby heard from her a couple years before I turned up at his doorsteps. She wasn’t doing good. Now Dad’s gone. He fucked up our family, Sam. John did. Not you.”

"You thought you were lifting a load and you made it worse. It's called an honest mistake, Dean. And besides, you were a fucking teenager. Why has nobody ever told me this? If mom was depressed, don't I have the right to know? This stuff is hereditary, you know." Sam wasn't even filtering his words, he was just talking and talking and hoping he still made sense. "So she, what, she killed herself then? Her entire family disappeared in a day and that was the final nail in the coffin?"

“Sam, Dad told me not to tell you. It never came back up till recently. You had every right to know. I’m sorry I never told you sooner.” Dean felt guilty, not having shared potentially life-saving information from his brother. “And I’d don’t know what happened to her. I tried looking for her at one point. No address, no assets, and no death certificate. She just vanished.”

Sam took a deep breath. "It ain't your fault," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I'm just gonna- go make dinner, I'm gonna text Charlie. I'm sorry," he repeated. They seemed to be the only two words he could get out. "Sorry."

 **The Big One:** hey Charlie, you wanna come over for dinner? Dean's grilling

 **Gay Disaster:** Sure Sam. Make sure to get him to throw on some garlic bread if you guys still have some after the last time I came over.

 **The Big One:** we restock on that shit every week I can't live without it "Hey, Dean, Charlie wants garlic bread!" he shouted into the kitchen.

“On it!” Dean shouted back, grabbing some from the freezer.

 **Gay Disaster:** Oh thank Chuck

Sam laughed. He'd almost forgotten about the 'Chuck is God' inside joke. It'd been too long since he'd talked to Charlie.

 **The Big One:** thank Chuck indeed

 **Gay Disaster:** ‘ight, I’ll be over in maybe 30 minutes. See you nerds in a few

 **The Big One:** a'ight Charlie. ttyl

Sam made his way into the kitchen where Dean was putting the bread into the oven. "Charlie's on her way," he informed him. "Need help?"

Dean turned to Sam and handed him some tongs. “Go flip the chicken.”

"Dang, bossy much?" Sam muttered, but he was smiling as he took the utensil from his brother and jogged out the open glass door to the patio where the chicken was cooking on the grill. As he flipped it, he thought about his panic attack earlier.

He had said a lot of things that he hadn't even consciously realized he felt. He wasn't good enough for Dean - check. He should move out of the house so he stopped burdening his brother - check. There was only one person he loved more than Gabriel, and naturally it was the guy who'd looked after, raised, and protected him his entire life... check, check, and triple-check.

It was a lot to suddenly get hit in the face with.

* * *

Dean was clattering around in the kitchen, setting the table with the food piled high, when the door opened and in walked Charlie.

“Hey nerds, so where’s my food?” She shouted from the entrance as she closed the door.

“In here,” Dean called from the kitchen. “You coming with the chicken Sam?”

"Comin' right up!" he announced, carrying the plate of grilled chicken towards the kitchen. He set it on the table, then paused. "Did you give her a key?"

“Nope,” Dean chuckled as he looked at Charlie. “When did you learn how to pick locks anyways?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Charlie said as she sat down at the table, assuming her usual spot by the window. “Now gimme the food Samifer.”

Sam rolled his eyes. "Please _don't_ remind me of that. It was fourth grade, okay? And here you go, it's right in front of ya, Red. Help yourself."

Charlie glared at Sam. “Nope. The nickname stuck, Samifer. Hate to be the bearer of bad news. Well, bad for you, good for me.”

Charlie and Dean simultaneously started loading their plates. It was impressive, really, how Charlie was almost able to out-eat both of the Winchester’s.

"But he- I- okay, if anything, _he_ should be the one who gets called Samifer, alright!" Sam protested. "He's the one who kept talking about how he was going to 'get inside me' and being all creepy about it. I was a _victim_." There was no real heat or indignation in his voice, but he did enjoy playing it up for comedic effect.

Charlie scoffed. “A _victim_? Wait, you were a victim? I don’t recall those events.” Charlie grinned and started shoving her face full of garlic bread.

Dean looked at Sam’s plate. “Sam are you going to eat anything or am going to have to airplane food into your mouth like I did when we were kids?” Dean laughed as he cut up his chicken.

Sam sighed exaggeratedly and started to make himself a plate. "I mean, you can treat me like a four-year-old if you _want_ me to call you 'Mommy' again," he muttered, just loud enough for them to hear him.

"But seriously though. Nick Milton, despite being my best friend's cousin, is one of the weirdest and creepiest people I've ever met. Like highkey. He calls himself Lucifer. He makes jokes about torture. I'm fairly certain he's sexually assaulted almost all of the girls and at least half the guys from our graduating year... it is utterly humiliating that I ever had a crush on that guy."

Dean had zoned out the last half of what Sam had said, fork just about to enter his mouth, "You know, maybe I'll just let you feed yourself then."

Charlie however only paid any attention to what Sam said last, "I'm well aware Samifer. But it's also hilarious to poke fun at you and past crushes. You'd do the same to me if you could."

"Right. And I _can't_ make fun of you for Do, the girl who was so obsessed with The Wizard of Oz that she was convinced she was _from_ Oz... when she was in the ninth grade... because why, exactly? I can't make fun of you for Gilda, the supposed 'fairy' - and not in a gay way - for what reason?" Sam brandished his forkful of chicken at her. "You don't get to talk, sweetheart."

Charlie smirked, "You can't make fun of me because even though they were hella crazy, they did things you couldn't even imagine."

"I'm not sure I even _want_ to know what that's supposed to mean," Sam muttered. "You're freaking gross. And anyway, not _all_ of my crushes have been total psychopaths. Like, okay, I get Luke and Ruby, but Jess was like, the sweetest girl ever. Amelia is just doing what she needs to do to get by. Brady was pretty chill too, until he got into drugs."

"Okay, fine whatever." Charlie chuckled, reaching for more food, having already finished her plate. "So what about you now huh? Finally realize how you feel about Mr. Gabriel?"

Sam did a spit take, thankfully turning his head in time to spray his water harmlessly on the floor. Once he'd wiped his mouth and refocused himself, he demanded, "why does everyone think I'm in love with Gabe? I'm not, okay? Just because he's in love with me and he's somehow decided that those unrequited feelings mean the end of our relationship does _not_ mean I feel that way about him too! And for fuck's sake, am I just not allowed to have friends? Is that what being pan means? Now it's not just men and women who can't be friends without secretly wanting a sexual relationship, it's me and _everybody_?"

Charlie stopped eating to look at Sam. "Wait, you mean to tell me Gabriel has liked you this entire time? I totally did not see that coming. Have you seen that way you looked at him? He is your whole fucking world, and you're just too much of a doofus to realize."

Charlie had no idea that was a chord not to be struck, so instead she turned to Dean. "So what about you nerd? Anyone special lately?"

Sam went silent, having no response to that. He didn't think if he said anything he'd be able to hold back the million burning questions resting on his tongue, questions he didn't feel safe asking.

Dean rolled his eyes, hoping his attitude would distract from his flush. "Well, not _special_ exactly."

"Oh, do tell Dean. Who's this someone 'not special'?" Charlie mocked with a smile, shoving more food into her mouth.

"It's not a crush," Dean told her hurriedly. "I'm not a fucking ten-year-old. It's just this guy that happens to be a good friend of mine and I wouldn't mind it if we ended up boning.

"Also we've already been on a couple of dates," he added as quietly as he possibly could.

"Wait seriously?" Charlie looked ebtween the brothers. "And when was I going to find out huh?"

Sam shrugged. "Don't look at me."

Dean swallowed hard around his chicken, avoiding her eyes, and muttered, "whenever you showed up, I guess."

Charlie did her best to mock betrayal on her face. "The audacity of you two I swear."

"Hey!" Sam protested. "I only found out like, three days ago!"

"Shut. The fuck up, Sammy," Dean told him through gritted teeth.

Charlie looked actually shocked this time around. "Dean, so how long have you and this person been 'not a thing'?"

"His name's Cas," Dean told her. "That's all you're getting out of me. And I mean, like, a month maybe?"

“You poor boy,” Charlie shook her head. “I can’t believe you finally made a move on him. How long had you been falling all over him for again?”

"Nobody said I made a move," Dean protested. "We're not a thing!"

“So it was my boy Cassie who made the first move.” Charlie chuckled, “I didn’t think he had the balls to.”

"Not. A thing." Dean repeated, his nostrils flaring. Sam laughed. "Dude, just because _you're_ blind doesn't mean everyone else is. You guys have _already_ been on a date and you haven't confirmed yet but I'm fairly certain you've already boned, too."

Charlie started laughing at the blush that had crept up Dean’s face. “They’ve totally boned Sam,” Charlie chocked out. “Look at his face.”

"Oh, fuck yes they have," Sam agreed. "He's practically exploding. They've totally done it."

He turned to her, having just experienced epiphany. "OH MY GOD I bet he's the bottom!"

Dean did a full-on spit take, spraying water all over everywhere in a beautiful mirror of his brother only a few minutes prior. "Jesus Christ, Sam, you really gotta discuss my sex life over dinner?"

Charlie and Sam shared a look, nodded and turned to look at Dean then said in unison, “yes we do.”

Charlie just laughed and went back to her food, letting Dean cool off for a second or two before their banter resumed.

"So Charlie," Sam prompted, taking the heat off of Dean for a moment. "Any hot chicks recently?"

Charlie sighed and just picked at her food before looking back at Sam. “Just some hook ups here and there. But damn Sam. There was this one girl, thought she and I were a thing. Then sike! She says that she was just ‘playing around’. Pff, women.”

Sam dropped his fork dramatically. "Well point me in this girl's direction, I'll cut a bitch for you."

“No need Samifer, her boyfriend apparently didn’t quite like her cheating so,” she shrugged her shoulders and chuckled. “Guess everything worked out.”

"Oh wow," Sam muttered, snorting. "She had that comin'."

“Yeah no kidding,” Charlie snorted, and promptly covered her mouth, which caused another fit of laughter to come from the redhead.

Dean watched them and felt himself start to laugh as well, practically guffawing at his family's utter ridiculousness. Nobody finished their dinner.

* * *

Dean shook Sam awake. “Rise and shine Sammy, breakfasts in the kitchen. Go eat then take a shower. You reek man.”

"And you smell like a rose garden, as per usual," Sam replied in his most cheerful sarcastic voice. "I'll be down in a minute."

He gathered his stuff slowly, opting to eat breakfast in his pajamas rather than put on clean clothes just to change them after his shower. He was so _tired_ for some reason he was dragging his feet and he didn't want to do anything.

He made his way downstairs and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of bacon. "Ohh, thank god for processed meat," he announced as he sat down at his seat at the table and started to tear into his breakfast burritos.

Dean poured two cups of coffee from the machine and put them down on the table, opening up his phone. “Do you have any classes today?”

"Just one," Sam replied, taking a sip. "And then therapy. I also have to work for a few hours and then I'm gonna study until like, one in the morning." He shifted to look at Dean. "Oh, by the way. When are you gonna get your lazy ass back to a therapist?"

Dean gave Sam a look, “I don’t need to see a therapist, Sam. Punching things is quite effective.” Dean put down his coffee and phone. “Do you want a ride or do you want to walk?”

"It's a release of adrenaline, Dean. It's not a permanent solution. It's not a coping mechanism. All it does is hold it off for a little while but it never makes you feel better in the long run."

He sighed, shoving his plate away from him, suddenly not hungry. "If you care about my mental health you'll get yourself on anger meds," he told him, knowing that was what would get him to understand.

"And, preferably, antidepressants, but I doubt you'd to that even if I asked you to so I won't ask."

Then he shrugged. "I'll walk, I think. You have to see about finding a shrink."

“Bitch,” Dean muttered as he pulled out is phone to do some research. If it took him figuring his shit out to get Sam in a good place, dammit that was what he was going to do. “So where am I picking up to take your ass to therapy later?”

"Uh, same spot as-" Sam paused. He couldn't have Dean come pick him up in 'the same spot as always, over by the music building' because he wouldn't _be_ over by the music building, because he wasn't meeting up with Gabe, because Gabe... wanted nothing to do with him.

He cleared his throat as he shouldered his backpack. "Just meet me over by the PAC 'round noon, jerk."

“Will do Samaroo,” Dean paused. “Never let me say that again. Anyways, see you then Sammy,”

Sam laughed. "You'll see me in like twenty minutes after my shower, but yeah."

“Alright Mr. Smart ass.” Dean mocked, “see you in twenty then.”

"Great." Sam made his way back up the stairs to his bathroom to take what probably amounted to the fastest shower of his life and was on his way out the door fifteen minutes later. "Love ya, Dean!" he tossed over his shoulder as he jogged out the door.

Dean didn’t hear him; he was on his phone still looking up therapists nearby.

Sam's class dragged on for what felt like ever, and by the time it was over he was fairly certain he wasn't going to be able to use his brain anymore.

He made his way to the PAC at 11:53 and sure enough, there was the Impala. He grinned in his brother's direction and jogged to meet up with him.

He slammed the door shut behind him and dropped his bag on the floor between his knees, then glanced over at Dean, who seemed preoccupied.

"Hey," he called. "Ground control to Major Dean? Anyone up there?" It took Dean a solid several seconds to get that awareness back into his eyes, but then he grinned and that made Sam a little more worried. "Dude, what's up?" he demanded. "Somethin' happen?"

Dean just turned his phone to Sam with an email pulled up. His hand was shaking. “Looks like I’m in job hunting mode now, Sammy.”

Sam grabbed the phone from Dean, reading and rereading and rerereading the email. "Bobby's goin' out of business?" he demanded incredulously. "What the fuck? They can't do this to you! You've gotta be shitting me."

He tossed it back into Dean's lap, feeling scorched raw inside. "I can work double-shifts, you know. I don't _have_ to go class, long as I study for my finals. Long as you need me to I'll put food on the table. You don't need this kinda stress in your life."

He ran his hands through his hair. "Fuck." Then he took a deep breath and said, "a'ight, get me to therapy and we'll figure this out when I get home."

"Sam, no. This is not your job to stress about. You can help out that way once you've graduated and are at a firm okay?" Dean said, "I have a couple weeks to go look for a job. Hey, maybe this is an opportunity to start my own business, like I was thinking about." Dean threw the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot, driving Sam to his therapy session which was about an hour away from the college. The majority of the drive was spent in silence.

Sam sighed heavily as he stepped out of the car. "Well, see you in an hour and a half," he muttered, grabbing his bag. "Don't wait up, I can catch a bus home."

Because his usual ride home was unavailable. Probably permanently. He'd always known he'd miss Gabriel if he suddenly walked out of his life, but he never thought he'd miss him _this much_. It was confusing and he hated it.

He made his way into the lobby. "I'm here to see Dan at one," he told the receptionist.

"I've got you all checked in," she replied helpfully, and Sam nodded and went to sit down until Dan came out to get him.

Dan walked around the corner not two minutes later and walked up to Sam as he was the only one sitting in the waiting area. “Hi Sam. I’m glad we’re finally able to talk.”

"Hey, Dan, nice to see you again. Sorry it's been so long," Sam laughed as they made their way towards Dan's office. "These last two weeks have been kind of insane, scheduling-wise."

“Nothing to worry about really,” Dan opened the office door allowing Sam to walk in past him. He closed the door and then walked to the couch opposite of Sam. “I’m just glad we finally found a day that worked. So catch me up Sam, how have the last few weeks been treating you?”

"Well besides the general stress of school and stuff, it's been pretty much fine. But these last five days pretty much everything's gone to absolute shit," Sam replied, sighing.

"Well how about we talk about school then we can tackle the hard stuff, okay? Dan asked. Grabbing his notebook and setting it beside him, pen in hand, he asked "so how is exam prep going for you?"

"Fine," Sam replied, shrugging. "I mean, I'm pretty much on top of all my classes, I've been studying and doing the practice my teachers gave me, scoring solid ninety percents... I'm feeling okay about the upcoming exams. It's everything else that's falling apart."

Dan looked up from his notepad to really look at Sam, bags under his eyes. "Have you been sleeping alright Sam?"

"No," Sam admitted. "That's, uh... kind of what started the whole 'everything falling apart' thing. I-" He took a deep breath. He was embarrassed about it but this was the kind of thing his therapist needed to know.

"I went off my anxiety pills," he confessed. "They were fucking with my sleep schedule, like _really bad_ , to the point where I was staying up until 4 in the morning and then falling asleep at noon to wake up at eight pm. So I stopped taking them and then that led to a whole other chain of events..." He paused. "It's just a lot."

Dan grabbed a second notebook. “Alright, so let’s change that up. I see you were taking Xanax, so let’s get you off of that and change you over to Prozac, okay?” Dan quickly filled out a prescription sheet and handed it to Sam. “Alright, let’s take this next bit slow okay? What was the first event you can recall and we can start from there?”

"The first thing I remember..." Sam stared out the window. "I don't know what triggered the attack, but I had an attack and it was bad enough that I called Gabriel. He came over and hung out with me for a while and he said something interesting so I asked him about it and he told me... he told me he's in love with me."

Sam turned his head to look at Dan, not saying anything else. He didn't know what else to say.

Dan looked at Sam and had to also him the one question he hated asking his patients, “How did that make you feel Sam? Gabriel expressing his feelings I mean.”

Sam made a low noise in the back of his throat. "I'm not in love with him," he replied, not really answering the question. "Or maybe I am, I don't know. Everyone else seems to think so but I've just never _felt_ differently for him than I do anyone else. Well I mean, I do, because he's my best friend, but..."

He trailed off. Fuck.

"Shit, am I in love with Gabriel?"

“Hey Sam?” Dan asked, pulling Sam out of his own conversation. “So can you tell me how you feel now, looking back on that interaction?”

"I'm confused," Sam said bluntly. "I'm just... 'm just really confused. I don't know what I think, I don't know what I'm feeling, and I definitely don't know what I'm supposed to _do_. And now Dean's lost his job and I'm failing at least one of my classes and apparently our mom had clinical depression and postpartum and was crazy suicidal right after I was born and nobody ever told me that and just everything sucks, basically." He took a few deep breaths as he came down from his rant.

“Alright, so let’s make a plan together for the rest of the week, and then when you leave you’ll go and book your next appointment with me out front with Julie okay?”

Dan and Sam then worked out a list of things to each day over the next two weeks leading up to exams. Dan gave him the pieces of paper and sent him out to Julie.

"I need to make a new appointment," Sam mumbled to Julie. She glanced up at him.

"What's your name and who are you seeing?" she asked in her perfect customer-service voice.

"Sam Winchester, I'm seeing Dan Black, and I need an appointment at some point on either Wednesday or Friday next week."

"Does 3:30 on Friday work for you?"

"Perfect." He smiled at her as she coded him into the schedule and walked out, putting it into a note and texting the date and time to Dean as well, just in case.

As he made his way toward the spot where he usually waited for Dean's telltale black antique car he realized it was already there, parked against the curb a little way down the road. He frowned. As he approached the Impala, he saw through his window that Dean was asleep in his seat, which was jarring, to say the least. Sam knocked on the window and he jerked awake before unlocking the door. "What's up, dude?" Sam demanded. "I told you not to wait up for me."

Dean rubbed his face as Sam got into the car and closed the door. “I was doing some job searching on my phone. Didn’t feel like wasting gas I didn’t have to.”

"Dean..." Sam sighed exasperatedly. He took a deep breath as he slid into the seat.

"You were sleeping in the car. Again. Like I've told you not to. About eighty times. You are fucking _exhausted_ all the time. Get some sleep!"

He glanced over at his brother and his resolve broke. He was not handling the loss of his job very well, and Sam could see it written all over his face. He reached over and pulled his brother into his body. "I love you, man," he muttered before he let go.

Dean paused for a moment. "Yeah, I love you too, Sammy," he replied, and then he started the car.

After Dean pulled out of the parking lot, it wasn’t until they got on the freeway that he broke the silence. “Well, how was talking with what’s-his-name?”

Sam stared out the window, thinking over all the things they'd talked about in their session.

"Dan," he told his brother, glancing back. "Uh, his name's Dan. And, I mean, it... was fine. He got me off Xanax and prescribed me Prozac instead - which, by the way, we need to stop by a pharmacy and pick up at some point so we don't forget. Uh..."

He trailed off, trying to decide how much he should say. Finally, he decided on a happy medium. "Um, we talked about Gabe a little bit. I don't... I'm feeling a lot of things about it right now so I don't know what I'm even supposed to do."

Dean shrugged. "A'ight. Why dontcha tell me all of 'em and I'll see what I can help you work through?"

Sam glanced at him dubiously but didn't press it. "Okay," he muttered. "Um... I'm kind of angry that he won't even let me talk to him and that he's convinced we can't be friends now that I know how he feels. It's stupid and I don't know why he thinks I can't see past it. Um... I'm also lowkey depressed because he's like, _the guy I go to_ when I've got shit to figure out, and with all this 'love' stuff I have a lot to figure out, but he won't talk to me. And then there's the fact that I'm just really sad cause he's not around. And I miss him, like a lot, like, even more than I thought I would. And it's really- It's just really disillusioning. He always made me so happy and he always treats me like I'm important and special and whatnot and he's just so awesome and-"

He cut off abruptly. "Oh, fuck. I'm in love with Gabriel.”

Dean didn’t respond, too surprised that Sam was able to figure his shit out. He reached into his pocket to grab his phone and tossed it to his brother. “Well what’re you waiting for Sammy?”

Sam stared at the phone that had just landed in his lap. He was a little bit in shock at this new revelation, but eventually he picked it up and opened the messaging app before realizing he had no idea what to say.

"How do you breach this?" he demanded. "Tell me what to type, I can't fuck this up."

Dean though for a second and shrugged, “Why don’t you just give him a call and see what happens?”

"Fine," Sam told him, "but not while you're here. I'll do it when we get home, then."

“Deal. Just promise me you’ll come get me after you call him?” Dean asked, more concern in his voice.

"Course I will," Sam promised. "I'm gonna need you." They pulled into the driveway and Sam stepped out of the car, Dean's phone still clenched in his fist. He made his way up to his bedroom and then tapped Gabriel's name.

The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And then-

_Click._

“Hey Dean, what do you want?” Gabe said through the phone, voice hoarse.

"Uh- you blocked my number so I had to use Dean's phone _pleasedon'thangup_ ," Sam said as urgently as he could, and then waited a second. When there was silence, he sighed in relief. "Gabriel, I- I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, I just... I was pulling a Dean, I guess. Repressing and denying my feelings."

He laughed bitterly. "Um... Gabe, I-" He took a deep, slow, preparatory breath and then said, "I'm in love with you. I'm sorry I hurt you, I didn't intend to, I was just being a blind idiot, but I love you, so much. I don't think I can live without you. These last couple of days have been absolute _hell_ and I can't keep living like this. I'm so, so fucking sorry. I'm sorry."

“Are you seriously telling me it took me not being around for you to figure your shit out?” Gabe paused, waiting for a response but the line was silent. “I don’t want to be your second place Sam. Forget it.”

"No, you don't understand," Sam insisted desperately. "You're not second _anything_ to me. I was just too scared to let myself feel the way I feel for you to say anything. I was too scared of you and the potential risks of loving you like that. I was just so fucking _terrified_. I couldn't- I'd think about it sometimes, back when we were kids, and it scared me so much I couldn't breathe. So I-I ignored it, I suppressed it, I forced myself to forget it, and then I just- I fucked it all up. I'm so, so sorry."

Gabe took a deep breath and took a while to respond, “This doesn’t get fixed with an ‘I’m sorry’ Sam. You have to know that.”

"I know. Believe me, I know. I'm not even asking you to go out with me, I can't expect that from you and I know that." Sam knew he was getting more and more unstable by the second but he didn't know how else to prove it to Gabriel, that he was better, that he could be better. Only for him.

"But I'm gonna do whatever I have to every day to make it better until you trust me again. Whatever it takes. I just didn't realize what it meant, what it would mean for me to lose you, and now that I know-" Sam's breath was coming in shaky bursts, random intervals. He couldn't get it into his lungs fast enough.

"If you'd let me, I want to stay by your side forever. I need you in my world, and it really seems like you need me too. I know it'll take a long time for me to earn your trust again but I want to be given the chance. Can I at least have that?"

“I’m not sure,” was all Gabe said, before the line went dead.

* * *

"So watcha been doin' lately, Novak?" Charlie asked as she dropped her shopping bags onto Gabriel's kitchen table. She'd just come from the Fred Meyer down the street where she'd gotten everything they needed for some killer nachos with guac.

Gabe put his head in his hands and took a shaky breath. “Sam called me yesterday.” He rubbed his hand across his face, trying to run away the tear that had begun to form.

“The day this all happened he said, ‘it really fucking sucks to be in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.’ And I just can’t get that out of my head. He just walked away from me.” Gabe stood up and walked over to the sink and leaned against it, trying to balance himself. He mumbled out, so quiet Charlie had to strain to hear, “all I can think about is if I let him back into my life he’s going to do that again.”

Charlie dropped the lime she'd been about to cut, walking over to place a hand on his shoulder. "Gabe," she whispered. "It's _Sam_. You know Sam. You know he won't. He made a stupid decision and now that he knows it was a stupid decision he's gonna run himself ragged trying to fix it. He'll probably make himself sick from exhaustion just to get you to talk to him."

She turned him around and hugged him, and when she stepped away, asked, "so, what did he call about?"

“He apologized,” Gabe sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, pausing over his mouth before he let his hand fall. “He said he loved me.”

"That's _good_ ," Charlie told him. "That's fucking perfect, actually! Oh, thank God he's finally figured out what the rest of us already knew, and thank God he's trying to make things right." She noticed the dubious and subdued look on Gabriel's face and sighed. "I know you can't just make these feelings that you've had these past several days go away, but Sam is a good guy. And he's going to take care of you, and he's gonna hold you, and he's gonna love you, and he's gonna ask for so little in return because that's how he was raised. He believes he is worthy of so little that he asks for even less. You were the only person who could ever make him see his value. He wastes away without you. Talk to him."

“I just can’t bring myself to Charlie,” Gabe looked up, willing the tears not to fall. “I just can’t.”

"Why not?" Charlie asked genuinely. "What's stopping you?"

“I don’t know Charlie.” Gabe grabbed a glass off the counter and filled it with water. He took a sip before continuing. “I want to trust him, I want to not be scared. And don’t tell me relationships are scary. I know. I’ve had my fair share. But fuck, he hurt me. He really hurt me. I was vulnerable and it felt like he ran me over with a semi.”

Charlie took a deep breath. "Do you remember the other thing he said to you?" When Gabriel gave her a blank look, she pulled out her phone. "He texted me his side of the whole story a couple days ago - there's a lot of spam here, he texts like a freaking weirdo - but the main point he was trying to make, the one you don't seem to remember at all, is this."

She finally found the message she was looking for and she read it out to him. "He said, 'I'm the worst and I've been trying to figure out why you even stay my friend for the last two or three years'."

She put her phone away and made eye contact with Gabriel. "He doesn't think he's _worthy_ of you. That's why he pushed you away. Yeah, he shouldn't have said what he said but he didn't think that was what was going to get to you. He... he's not capable of doing that to you again. If he did, honestly? He'd probably throw himself out a window."

Gabe wrapped his arms around his torso, “I can’t— I can’t be the reason he does that.” Gabe took another shaky breath, “I don’t think I could live with myself.”

"No, that's not what I meant," Charlie told him. "I just mean that he'd hate himself so much if he hurt you again that he'd never recover. I love the both of you to death and you're both in so much pain over this. All I ask is that you talk to him."

“Maybe someday, Charlie.” Gabe shook his head, “I just don’t know if I can do that right now.”

Charlie nodded and turned away. "I guess if what you think you need is to keep being in pain, then that's what you'll do. I never could change your mind anyway." She started to slice the avocados and they went to work on their nachos in silence for a few minutes.

They both jumped when Charlie's phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the caller ID before answering as quickly as possible. "Hey, what's up my guy?" she asked Sam.

"Charlie, I haven't picked up my new prescription yet and-"

"Panic attack, I gotchu. How intense?"

"Mild. Not a big deal, but... I just want you here to help me take care of myself, can you do that? Dean's working and I already dragged him home early once this week and the shop's going out of business anyway so he needs all the money he can get-"

"I'm on my way." She hung up and turned to Gabriel. "So... would you mind coming with me over to Sam's place? He's having another panic attack. You don't have to come, but... Sam would appreciate seeing you."

Gabe only hesitated for a moment before grabbing his coat and throwing on his boots. “I’m driving.”

"By all means," Charlie said, smiling to herself. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

Sam was in the living room when Charlie banged on the door. He sighed with relief before opening it and coming face-to-face with-

"Gabriel," he whispered. "Hi."

"Heya Samster," Charlie announced, pushing past him into the house. "We gotta get you that prescription. Soon as you calm down we should do that. Until then... what do you need?"

"Uh-" Sam felt himself floundering as Gabriel followed Charlie, not quite meeting his eyes. "Just..." He felt choked, like he couldn't breathe. He didn't even know how he felt about the fact that Gabriel was there. "Just some friends. Distract me, please."

Gabriel stood awkwardly by Sam, almost regretting coming with Charlie. Gabe walked to the couch and sat down, Sam and Charlie following suit. Sam sat down beside Gabe, and it took about 30 seconds for any of them to speak. “So how was Dan the other day?” Gabe asked.

Sam took a deep breath. "It was fine, he, uh, changed my prescription." He nodded slowly, then inhaled and turned to look at his friend. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't be here. I didn't want to do this to you. I called Charlie because this isn't your responsibility anymore and you've made that _very_ clear so I just thought- Charlie's basically my only friend anymore- I'm sorry. I'm fuckin' sorry, Gabriel, and- oh. Fuck."

 _That_ was no longer a mild panic attack. _This_ was now a huge fucking panic attack because all he was doing was hurting the most important person in his life even more than he already had and he _couldn't do that_ , he'd hurt enough people, he just needed to-

"Calm down, Sam," Charlie was telling him. When did he stand up? He didn't know, but now he was standing several feet from the couch. Charlie was in front of him and Gabriel was still on the couch, watching with an almost unreadable expression. However, it didn't take much for Sam to be able to decode the conflict and sorrow in his eyes.

Watching Sam have a panic attack just because Gabe was there was like a wrench being thrown at his already shattered heart. Gabe’s legs moved before he even knew what was happening. Gabriel was up and over beside Sam in a matter of seconds, wrapping his arms around him, “Hey Sammich, what can you see?”

"You," Sam mumbled into his hair. "Just you."

It was only Gabriel for so many reasons. For one thing, Sam's anxiety-attack-tunnel-vision was activated, and Gabriel being right in front of him meant he was taking up all the space Sam had. For another thing, Gabriel's hair was right in his face, his arms were around Sam's waist, his head was against Sam's chest. And finally, it had always been Gabriel. He'd never really _seen_ anyone besides Gabriel. He loved him too much to look.

"Just you," he repeated. "Only you, always you. Forever."

Sam hugged Gabriel tighter to him, and the pair briefly heard the front door open and close. Gabriel reveled in the closeness and turned his body to look at Sam. “Okay,” Gabe chuckled, turning his head to bury it in Sam’s sweater. “What can you feel?”

"Well..." Sam forced himself to try and breathe evenly. "Your arms, your head... There's Charlie's hand on my shoulder, and that Dean's on my back. Hi, Dean."

Dean let out a small, surprised noise. "Heya, Sammy. How's it going?"

"Not great, but also a little bit great? I don't know if that makes sense." Sam's eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his head was tilted, resting against Gabriel's. "Uh- what's the next one?"

Gabriel flattened out his hands on Sam’s back, he hadn’t realized his hands were clenched and took a deep breath. “Well, what can you hear?” Gabe matched his breathing to Sam’s in an effort to steady Sam’s breaths.

Sam strained to hear as many things as he could. "Your breath. Water's running in the kitchen. Some animal's makin' sounds outside. Charlie's putting her shoes away. My voice, I guess. Uh... I think that's it."

"I'm gonna get started on dinner," Dean murmured into his ear, and Sam just nodded slightly before he felt Dean move away.

Charlie watched Dean walk into the kitchen and patted Sam on the shoulder. “I’m going to give the Squirrel a hand.” She let her hand fall as she walked over to the kitchen leaving Sam and Gabriel alone in the living room.

Gabriel started to move away from Sam, but his arms locked him in place. Gabe moves his head, forcing Sam to look at him. “Let’s go sit down.”

Sam reluctantly let go of Gabe so they could move over to the couch. They sat down, Sam somehow managing to curl into Gabe without injury. Gabe had his left arm draped over Sam’s back. Gabriel turned his head so it was like he was kissing Sam’s head.

“Now what do you smell?” Gabe said into Sam’s hair.

"Cinnamon," Sam managed. "The bacon Dean just put on the stove. Your cologne, kinda like if toxic masculinity had a smell. Did you steal that from Dean?"

He glanced up at his best friend, smiling weakly. Gabriel was grinning down at him, looking like he was trying not to laugh. "I mean, it's like sweat and smoke and gun oil, something musky and hypermasculine. It seems like something my brother would wear."

He was feeling marginally better, and most of it was because Gabriel was there, holding on to him. But part of him also knew that Gabe was going to go back to ignoring him as soon as this was over, and that left him clinging to the panic in the least healthy way imaginable.

Gabe tightened his grip on Sam briefly, before letting out a small chuckle leaning his head on the back of the couch. He ignored the part of his heart that ached for life to just be this, just comfortable. “Well I can tell you with upmost certainty I did not get this cologne from your brother.” Gabe shook his head, “though maybe Castiel did.”

"Holy crap, are you using Cas' cologne?" Sam laughed. "And you knew about them sleeping together?"

“Correction, I’m pretty sure I’m using Cas’ cologne that he stole from Dean. Or that Dean left there.” Gabe put his head back against Sam’s. “And yes, I did know. It’s very hard to miss a Winchester leaving you house at the bright ass-crack of dawn.”

"Hey, we Winchesters are masters of spycraft and espionage. We can sneak out of your house if we want to. I just don't think Dean cares." Sam grinned at his friend. "I'm feeling... kind of better. Uh... thank you, Gabriel." He glanced away, suddenly knowing Gabriel was going to leave.

_Don't have another attack, don't have another attack, don't have another attack-_

"Don't have another attack," he was whispering under his breath.

Gabriel didn’t move, he was too caught up in what could be to think of what actually was. That is until Dean called from the kitchen. “Chow time!” he hollered, earning a chuckle from Charlie. Gabe was dragged out of his fantasy and took his arm off of Sam, causing him to sit up and look at Gabe. “You should probably go and eat something, Sam. And I should probably be going.”

 _Don't leave!_ Sam wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He couldn't do that to his friend, not when he'd just put everything on hold to help Sam after Sam had run his heart over with a dump truck. He swallowed hard and replied, "yeah. Okay. I guess I'll see you in class."

He didn't wait for Gabriel's answer before turning and escaping into the kitchen like the coward he knew he was.

"Gimme that," he muttered, grabbing his plate from Dean. Dean gave him a look that wasn't quite offended, but definitely bordered on it, and he sighed. "Sorry, Dean, I'm just on edge.”

Dean pursed his lips and patted Sam's shoulder sympathetically before handing Charlie her plate and leading them into the dining room.

Gabe was still seated on the couch, holding his head in his hands. _Fuck. Just fuck. I can’t leave him like this._

Gabe stood up and walked over to the dining room. “Ima head out. Just text me if you need anything. Charlie, you good for a ride home?”

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she replied, smiling and waving at him.

Sam stared at his plate. Gabriel didn't want to be here. Gabriel didn't care about Sam anymore. Gabriel was only here because Dean was his friend and he knew Dean would go a little bit insane if he knew how many panic attacks Sam had been having recently. Sam needed to remember that. _He_ had ruined his relationship with Gabriel. It was no one's fault but his own.

After he heard the door slam behind Gabriel, he glanced up at Dean and Charlie. They were both looking at him concernedly.

"I'm fine," he told them. Then his phone pinged. He grabbed it.

 **Sexybeast:** hey

 **Samshine:** oh. hi.  
 **Samshine:** you uh  
 **Samshine:** unblocked my number?

 **Sexybeast:** I did say to text me if you needed anything.  
 **Sexybeast:** Hard to do that when the messages can’t get though.

 **Samshine:** i...  
 **Samshine:** didn't think you were talking to me  
 **Samshine:** didn't think you wanted anything to do with me  
 **Samshine:** actually

 **Sexybeast is typing...**  
 **Sexybeast:** I just... I don’t know where I’m at right now.  
 **Sexybeast:** In all honesty, I’m still hurting, but I know I can’t keep hurting you.

 **Samshine:** no  
 **Samshine:** you're not allowed to do that  
 **Samshine:** you're not allowed to put your shit on hold for me  
 **Samshine:** look i'm an asshole okay? i know that  
 **Samshine:** and i'm fucking sorry, and you know how sorry i am  
 **Samshine:** but you have no obligation to me  
 **Samshine:** you're not required to be my friend just because im in love with you  
 **Samshine:** which i am. btw.  
 **Samshine:** madly hopelessly in love  
 **Samshine:** jsyk  
 **Samshine:** deal with you first and _then_ deal with Sam  
 **Samshine:** i'm not your responsibility i have other people to take care of me

 **Sexybeast:** I made you my responsibility when I made you my friend.  
 **Sexybeast:** I always put myself second because you mattered more. Always have.  
 **SexyBeast:** I never just _dealt_ with you same. I did it because I cared about you. I still do. I just...

 **Samshine:** yeah and then i un-made myself your responsibility  
 **Samshine:** i took my best friend, the person i care about more than anyone else in the world  
 **Samshine:** yes, more than Dean  
 **Samshine:** and i fucking screwed you  
 **Samshine:** it's not fair to you  
 **Samshine:** and you have no reason to keep pretending  
 **Samshine:** ALSO  
 **Samshine:** i matter less than not at all  
 **Samshine:** put yourself first for a couple of days and maybe you'll realize that that's better anyway  
 **Samshine:** maybe you'll finally figure out that you don't need me, because you rock  
 **Samshine:** i wouldn't blame you

Charlie look at Sam, “Hey, dude, why are you shaking?”

Sam pressed the power button on his phone and dropped it. "It doesn't matter," he muttered, pushing his chair back from the table and standing. "I'm going to bed."

"At 6pm?" Dean asked incredulously. "And you didn't even eat your dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Sam told him sharply. "Just leave it, Dean."

Dean raised his hands in surrender as Sam left the kitchen, and turned to Charlie as soon as he knew Sam was out of earshot. “Text Gabriel, see if he knows what’s up.”

Charlie nodded and pulled out her own phone.

 **Queen of Moondor:** do you know what's got Sam?

 **LokiLaufeyson:** image.427, image.428, image.429  
 **LokiLaufeyson:** I just, I don’t know how to help him Charlie.

 **Queen of Moondor:** i think he feels guilty  
 **Queen of Moondor:** well ok that's p obvious  
 **Queen of Moondor:** but he just feels so guilty he can't function around you  
 **Queen of Moondor:** the only way for it to take off is if you sort your shit out as adult human peoples face-to-face

 **LokiLaufeyson:** I don’t know if I’d rather slap some sense into him or just kiss his stupid face. **LokiLaufeyson:** I just..

 **Queen of Moondor:** would you appreciate my recommendation?

 **LokiLaufeyson:** No. probably not.  
 **LokiLaufeyson:** What is it?

 **Queen of Moondor:** KISS  
 **Queen of Moondor:** HIM  
 **Queen of Moondor:** if those are the options you present  
 **Queen of Moondor:** definitely go with the second one

 **LokiLaufeyson:** Yup. Didn’t appreciate it. Another other grade A pieces of advice that might not ruin the sliver of a relationship I have left with Sam?

 **Queen of Moondor:** besides to come over tomorrow and talk to him?  
 **Queen of Moondor:** nope

 **LokiLaufeyson:** Thanks

 **Queen of Moondor:** you're welcome

"It's this text conversation he had with Gabe," Charlie told Dean, not looking up from her phone. She clicked on the first screenshot Gabe had sent her and slid the device across the table for Dean to read.

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know how to help him, Charlie. I don’t want my brother to feel like he needs to push Gabriel away for Gabriel to feel better. The two of them together was the best I’ve seen Sam recently.”

"Yep," Charlie muttered in agreement. "And Gabriel's in a lot of pain. And I don't know where the line is. How do you walk in between, how do you mediate? How do you remind them that they love each other?"

“I don’t know about you Charlie, but I never thought I’d be the therapist to my brother’s couple therapy,” Dean chuckled.

"Oh, now there's an idea," Charlie laughed. "Sign them up for couple's therapy. Hard part'd be getting them there."

“Yeah. Neither would be very willing participants,” Dean said.

Charlie snorted, staring in the direction Sam had disappeared. "I don't know if we should even interfere. I think the best course might be to let them deal with it. If I know them - and I do..." She turned back to Dean, staring at him solemnly. "They won't be able to stay away from each other for very long."

* * *

A week passed and neither of them broke the silence still hanging between them. Conflict grew in Gabriel, not knowing when or if he should even message Sam.

And then Sam had _yet another_ attack.

He was starting to think maybe he was just screwed up and nothing, not even the meds, were actually going to help him. He called Gabriel on instinct. He was right there and Sam forgot everything that'd happened between them the last two weeks, he just saw his name and clicked.

And Gabriel answered.

“Sam? Uh… hey?” Gabriel hesitated, he honestly didn’t think Sam would be the one to break.

Sam was breathing way too hard. He was hyperventilating, to be honest. He couldn't get enough oxygen into his body. He was absolutely screwed, wasn't he? "I- Gabe- you- come over," he begged. "Please."

Gabriel hung up the phone. Arguably the worst possible thing to do at that point, but it meant driving over to the Winchester’s that much quicker. He was at the door praying it was unlocked when he tried the door handle. Thankfully it opened with easy and he ran into the house. “Sam? Hey Sammich? Where are you?”

"Dining room." He was braced against the table, staring at a picture of Mary Campbell. When Gabriel tore into the room, he reached out for him, but couldn't look away.

"This was my mother," he told him softly. "She was mentally ill. Like me. She was depressed and anxious and apparently really scared, when I was born, that I wasn't going to make it. She didn't want to attempt to raise me only to have me die. She wasn't given the chance."

He turned to look at Gabriel then, sighing. "My dad abandoned her. We have no idea where she is now. I'm like this, and the one person who could help me understand it is completely lost. I never knew my mother, I grew up just me and Dean and Dad, and I hated it, hated him, hated _them_ even. There were days when I wished my brother would die in a fire. And then there were other days where I knew I wouldn't make it through a morning without Dean nagging me about this, that, and the other thing."

He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying harder than he'd tried at most of his homework in high school not to drive it into the photo of his mother. "I hate this. I hate all of this. I hate being alive, I hate my family, I hate my dad, I hate school, I hate work, I hate every single person in this GODFORSAKEN WORLD-" he was screaming now, and that was very, _very_ interesting. "Except for you." He paused, still breathing hard. "You're the only person who ever really made me happy. I love you."

Gabriel knelt beside Sam and grabbed his hands. “Look at me Sam. No, Sam. Actually look at me. You are the brightest, most intelligent person I will ever have the privilege of knowing.” Gabriel took a deep breath before he continued. “From what I know of John he was a total fucking bag of dicks. Your mother didn’t deserve that, and the shittiest thing happened to her. There isn’t anything that we can do about it now. Maybe on break we can hire a private eye to look for her?” Gabe stood up pushing aside the photo of Mary and sat on top of the table. He grabbed Sam’s face, forcing him to look at him. “What do you see?”

"John Winchester was a bag of dicks, wasn't he?" Sam chuckled. "He- my dad was a piece of shit and I'm glad he's dead. I know that sucks to say but I'm just glad I don't have to live with him anymore."

He took a deep breath. "Your eyes. They're hazel with enough flecks of gold to look golden in direct sunlight. Some of the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

“Yeah he was.” Gabe chuckled. “What do you feel?”

"One hand on my back, other one's stroking my arm." Sam shivered in pleasure. "Which, by the way, don't stop that. Feels so good, it's super comforting. My feet on the floor, my hands on your legs. I'm cold."

“Let’s go grab you a sweater then.” Gabe made to move off the table.

"Don't. I'm fine. I just... you asked, so." Sam shifted, carefully not moving any of the points of contact between his body and Gabriel's. "So, things I can hear? Uh... just you talking to me. My alarm on my phone. Dean walking around upstairs. My thoughts are pretty damn loud. And my own voice."

“Hey? I thought I was asking the questions around here.” Gabe chuckled, settling back onto the table. “Alrighty then. What do you smell?”

"Chocolate and that cologne," Sam answered readily. "It's all blurring together like a big cloud, it's weird." He laughed.

Gabriel chuckled, he didn’t even realize he was wearing that cologne still. “Yeah that is weird. But that’s it? Just chocolate and cheap cologne?”

"Think so. Sweat, maybe. Whatever the fuck your hair product is. Smells nice." He buried his face in Gabriel's hair, starting to come down and just so fucking _exhausted_ from all the anxiety he'd had recently that he was about ready to collapse onto the ground and sleep for a year. "Whassa next one?"

“Well that’s it really. Pretty much all you taste right now is your mouth,” he said with a small chuckle. “Maybe we should get you to bed. I—” Gabriel took a deep breath before he continued. “I’m sorry Sam.”

"What are _you_ sorry for?" Sam demanded, biting back his retort to the other thing Gabriel had said - _I'd love to be tasting your mouth right now_. "I'm the one who screwed up."

“I shouldn’t have left you when I did.” Gabriel rested his head against Sam’s chest. “I just, I hate myself for what I put you through. I’m sorry.”

"It-" Sam groaned. He'd never been good at this whole _words_ thing, he didn't know how to explain what he was trying to say. "It wasn't your fault. _I_ fucked up, _I_ hurt you, _I'm_ the one who didn't think about what you were going through. I'm the one who has no filter, and I'm the one who should be sorry. And I am, Gabe. I'm- I'm so, so sorry. I love you so much and I'm so sorry."

Gabe wrapped his arms around Sam, push his self off the counter to properly hug Sam. “Jerk, I was trying to apologize. Way to steal my thunder.”

"That's what I'm saying," Sam insisted. "You have nothing to apologize for. All I've ever done is leech off of you and then when you tried to take care of yourself _I_ couldn't handle it. I'm a shit friend."

“Taking care of myself. What kinda bullshit is that. I can’t be okay without you in my life Sam.” Gabe mumbled into Sam’s shirt.

"Why not?" Sam asked him, unconvinced. "What do I bring into your life that you can't get anywhere else?"

“You,” was all Gabe said, not knowing if he would be able to stop talking if he said anything else.

"I don't know what that means," Sam admitted. "I... dammit, Gabriel, I'm in love with you and it's fucking terrifying and I hate it and it's the happiest I've ever been in my life." He pulled Gabriel's head against his chest. "Don't leave me again," he begged quietly. "I don't know if I could survive that."

“I don’t plan on it.” Gabriel said, noting Sam was still shivering. “And I don’t care what you say, we’re getting you a sweater.”

Sam just hugged him a little bit closer. "A'ight," he murmured, but didn't make any kind of move away from Gabriel. When he was finally pushed lightly in the chest, he pulled away a little bit. "Can I kiss you?" he blurted out.

“No,” Gabe said. “Not because I don’t want to kiss you, god do I ever. I want you be in the right headspace and not be wanting it high off an adrenaline rush.”

"I've-" Sam forced himself to cut himself off. Enthusiastic consent from the get-go is _essential_ , or it's a no. "Okay," he whispered. "But would you stay with me? I'm gonna- I'm gonna go to bed, will you stay with me?"

“Yeah, yeah I’ll stay with you.” They mostly detached from each other and Gabe followed Sam up into his room.

Sam collapsed on his bed and was faintly aware of Gabriel throwing his blankets onto him before climbing in next to him. Sam curled his body around him and was asleep in seconds.

* * *

He woke up all at once, at about 2:30 in the morning. Gabriel was snoring quietly against his chest, and he could hear Dean snoring (considerably less quietly) from his bedroom. He smiled at the blond in his arms, kissed his hair, and extracted himself, heading into the bathroom.

He braced himself against the sink. How much had he fucked up last night? He was fairly certain he'd messed _something_ up, but he didn't know what or how. He could barely remember the previous evening.

"Hey, what's wrong?" a voice asked behind him. He turned his head. "Nothing," he replied. "Doesn't matter."

“Sam, I know you better than anyone. I know we usually let things slide, but somethings off.” Dean said, “So what’s wrong?”

Sam took a deep breath, then turned the rest of his body to look at his brother. "I think I screwed something up with Gabriel. I don't remember last night but I woke up just now and he was in my bed and I just- I don't know, I'm terrified I messed it up."

“So let me get this straight, you don’t remember last night and the guy you like is asleep in your bed.” Dean stifled a laugh and looked up at his brother. “I only have one question; does he still have his clothes on?”

Sam sighed. "Yes, he does. And I am ninety-nine point nine nine nine nine nine percent sure that we did not have sex. But yeah, I don't remember last night, I was too busy panicking and shouting about Mom to really take anything in. And he was like, cuddling with me, which was nice but also scary."

Dean shook his head. “How is that scary though?”

“It's scary because I don't know where we stand. And I don't want to do something wrong."

“No offense Sam, but you’ve probably done more to screw up a friendship that most people. And he still came back when you called him.” Dean sighed and leant against the door frame. “Cas and I were talking the other day. Gabe really missed you.”

Sam leaned against the opposite wall in a pretty good subconscious mirror of his brother. He dropped his hands helplessly. "Okay, then, what do you want me to do? How do I fix this then, if you're so damn smart?"

“I never said I knew how to fix it.” Dean shook his head and crossed his arms. “At this point, I think all you guys need is time to rebuild trust.”

"I hate that," Sam said. It was meant to be a whisper but it came out as a near-sob. "I hate how little he trusts me now. I wasn't trying to-"

And then Dean was holding him, shushing him, keeping him safe like he always had. "'Sokay, Sammy," he whispered. "'Sgonna be okay. Gabriel doesn't know what to do with you, but he loves you anyway. And he ain't leaving your side. So I guess my best advice is to go back in there, sleep until 10, and then talk to him when he gets up. A'ight?"

Sam nodded, smiling a little. "A'ight," he replied quietly, then slowly pulled out of the hug and walked back into his bedroom on shaky legs. A few seconds later, he heard Dean's door close, and he let out his breath and slipped back under the covers. Gabriel murmured something that sounded like Sam's name and shifted restlessly as Sam readjusted himself next to him, but he didn't wake.

Sam curled himself around his friend again and was asleep almost instantly.

Gabriel woke up against something warm and shifted closer, before he realized it was Sam. He opened his eyes and looked up at him. Sam’s arms were wrapped around him. He kissed Sam’s chest before curling back into him and falling back asleep.

Sam drifted awake around 9:30 with Gabriel full-on shamelessly lying on top of his chest. Sam gently carded his fingers through his golden hair and Gabriel's eyes opened slowly.

"Hi," Sam breathed.

“Heya,” Gabe mumbled, still half-asleep. “You’re warm.”

Sam smiled at him, fighting the urge to kiss his hair or his forehead or his lips or some places maybe a little less appropriate. "Am I a good mattress for you?" he asked teasingly, carefully keeping his gaze on Gabe's eyes.

“Mhmm.” Gabe hummed, he would be quite happy to never move again.

"Good," Sam murmured distractedly. He really wasn't doing a good job at this, despite his commitment. "Gabriel, is it okay if I-"

He stopped himself. There was no way Gabriel trusted him enough yet. He'd screwed it up and it would be a long time before Gabriel would let him be close like that. If he ever did.

Gabriel looked at Sam, a battle going on behind his eyes before he pushed up and forward, catching Sam’s lips with his own.

Sam gasped into Gabriel's mouth, barely freezing for half a second before he pushed back eagerly, threading his fingers into long blond locks, pulling Gabriel closer. He sighed in genuine joy as he felt Gabriel's fingers running up and down his arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and he finally pulled away and took a deep breath.

"That's probably it for right now," he whispered. "But we'll come back to that later, right?"

“Yeah,” Gabe breathed out, then smiled. “Later.”

**Author's Note:**

> What a rollercoaster.
> 
> I hope the ambiguous ending doesn't suck. There was really nowhere to go from there. Also WHAT CUTIE PIES OMG
> 
> Love,  
> \- Dean and Charlie


End file.
